[hider=Princess Darth McFart the Hutt][center][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/cb712f1158ca.png[/img][/center]

[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/260128/e63ce540.png[/img][/center]

[b]Species:[/b] Twi’lek 
[b]Age:[/b] 30



[b]Equipment:[/b]
Medical Satchel; contains various items including Bacta patches, coagulants, pain suppressants, wraps, traditional Twi'lek tools.
Diagnostic Scanner - Civilian grade, held together by tape and dreams at this point.
Vibroknife - Concealed and rarely used.
Datachips, Credit stash, cache map - Favours, whispers, and contingency funds. 

[b]Skills:[/b] 
[b]Traditional Healing & Trauma Medic[/b] - First and foremost, skills that are deeply ingrained rather than trained. A calm and nurturing touch and intuition. She can sense what is wrong before her equipment can confirm it. Training and determination for the trade later in her life has given her a more foundational knowledge and means she can rapidly stabilise real wounds through diagnosis and improvisation of what she has available.

[b]Discretion and Trust [/b]- Both go hand in hand. People speak freely around her. She does not pry, posture, or judge. Korsu easily adjusts her speech patterns and adopts appropriate body language to blend in or disappear. She has a generally soft manner and thus can keep people calm without having to threaten.

[b]Survivalist Stealth [/b]- Korsu knows the lay of the land of where she is. She knows when patrol routes change, and she picks up on trends quickly and knows how to fragment and pass on information effectively. You'll also never know she was there. Being thorough and meticulous for details means she can sanitise and clean up a space to avoid forensic detection.

[b]Calm Under Pressure[/b] - Korsu can keep her wits about her in crisis situations. Threats and chaos rarely shake her focus, meaning she can function when others panic.


[b]Weaknesses:[/b]
[b]Physically Vulnerable / Non-Combat[/b] - Korsu can be very easily overwhelmed. She has no formal weapons training as well as minimal experience and exposure to any kind of arms. In a violent encounter, she would be reliant on others and her quick thinking to get out of there…

[b]No Tactical Awareness [/b]- She relies on instinct over a sense of practical and lived experience of being part of a tactical team. 

[b]Avoidant of Direct Confrontation[/b] - Korsu prefers not to argue, prefers not to fight even with words and will take a subtle action and delay things rather than have a decisive and direct confrontation.

[b]Self-Reliant[/b] - Fiercely independent and stubborn and will rarely ask for help, even if allies and resources are available.

[b]Heavy Moral Compass[/b] - Every life she fails to save, every consequence of passed information erodes her emotional resilience over time.

[b]Unyielding Ethical Lines[/b] - Once Korsu has decided something is wrong, she will not participate in it to a stubborn degree.


[b]History:[/b]
For Korsu, life under the Empire was hell. She lived under two banners; scarcity and control. Born far from privilege and brought to Imperial space as a young child she spent years moving around and between labour districts and fringe settlements. Long before Imperial clinics Twi’leks relied on line healers. Keepers of anatomical knowledge, tradition, and ritualised care. Methods passed from lekku-to-lekku in the form of a communal and ancient art. The emphasis of returning to a state of calmness. Such a manner was passed to Korsu; not from a living lineage, but a broken one. Korsu does not remember her family clearly. All she has are impressions of them. Names are gone and faces blur together and whether it was through displacement, sale, or evacuation, she became separated when she was young. Just one of countless Twi’lek strays left scattered across the galaxy.

In the fringe settlements, her methods developed from spiritual instinct to actual skill in the field through practice and a willingness to learn. This was a field she learned out of necessity and a desire to keep her hands busy and stay gentle out of principle. What began as mutual aid hardened into her own oath. If she had the means to save a life, she would not choose who deserved it.

Information brokering grew naturally from her work. People tended to talk when they were tended to and when they felt they were safe, and they always were. She never sought power and influence; simply remembered what she had heard and found where it should go to have the best effect. She learned where information needed to go to prevent raids, soften crackdowns, or give a desperate family a chance to disappear before it was too late. Such whispers led her to her current path. Such whispers tested her oath eventually.

A wounded Imperial Shock Trooper left bleeding out with armour cracked and his squad, if he ever had one, gone. All gone. He was an easy target. Leaving him would have been easy. Should have been easy. Leaving him would have been justified. The Empire had taken years from her and innumerable others but when she looked into his eyes, she could not reconcile that this soldier was part of that same machine. He was just dying, and if he did then the Empire had killed him too.

It was in secret that she treated him, and it required resources she could barely afford. Still, when he happened to survive she expected him to report her, to kill her, or to disappear. He stayed. Together they draw little attention and wander through just as yet another odd pairing on a planet full of them.[/hider]